Evening Stars
by saruviel
Summary: A Chronicles of the Children of Destiny Novella


'Evening Stars'

Prologue

Before the beginning God planned. He planned something special, something new. He planned to create. For all eternity he had been alone, and then Callodyn and Kayella had been born, and lived for a while, and they rested. And the other Children of God filled his head, and then he dwelt, for a while, upon Saruviel. Saruviel. What a bloody angel. What a bloody serious bastard of an angel. For Jehovah's sake, he thought to his glory, what the hell would he do with Saruviel? Make him the Antichrist, Gloryel suggested, at the back of his heart, every day or so. That will teach the fucker a lesson. 'Yes, dear daughter. You really are glorious. Nice suggestion. I think so.'

But, seriously, what to do with Saruviel Saruviel, Saruviel, Saruviel. Bloody Saruviel.

Destiny was strange, weird almost, different. But would serve his purpose in his threefold plan. His threefold Chronicle. Yet completion was 12-fold, as Valandriel would eternally testify to, And the Children of God would ultimately yield to the Children of Love. But plans often changed anyway, for the book of Destiny was full of all sorts of crypticities, with shadows of turnings and all sorts of potential dead ends.

But Saruviel. Blessed Saruviel. Where to begin? At the beginning, I suppose. At the Beginning.

And so, as he had done, and presumably always would do so, Jehovah got to planning, and Yahweh helped him out, and Adonai Eloheinu got on with the job.

Part One

Youthfulness

Chapter One

The first thing the Angel Saruviel remembered was darkness. Infinite darkness. And therein he dwelt, and therein he found his peace, and therein he found his absolution. And then, after darkness, a strange thing. Light. And an Angel called Gabriel shone his love upon him, and kissed him a brotherly kiss, and there they were, running around, playing rocks, and having the time of their lives.

'We're not the bloody Morning Stars, ok, Kantriel. We're the Evening Stars. Right, Daraqel.'

Daraqel shrugged. Saruviel decided everything these days, didn't he.

'Morning Stars suck, anyway,' said Devuel. 'Especially Aquariel. Calls herself 'Morning Star' herself. Bright blessed Gabriel's loving and devoted twin. Thinks she is glory, and not Gloryel. She's hot, though. Gloryel. I like her.'

'Get your mind out of the gutter,' responded Saruviel with a glare. 'She likes me, after all. She tells me all the time. That I am nice and serious, and that I am a responsible young angel. I'm older than her, but she calls me a responsible young angel.'

Daraqel and Kantriel sniggered at Saruviel's joke.

'Nah. She likes me,' responded Devuel. 'Luladiel tells me so. Says she looks at me when we are at Michael's fort. Says she thinks I'm cute.'

'Cute?' queried Saruviel. 'I suppose. If someone whose face resembles a bottom looks cute.'

Daraqel and Kantriel grinned again.

'Good one, Sar,' said Daraqel.

Saruviel grinned, while Devuel gave him the finger.

'If there is anyone Gloryel likes, its obviously me,' put in Semambarel suddenly.

'Dream on,' replied Saruviel. 'You have the charms of Michael on a good day. And he is as boring as they bloody get.'

'Likes to think he rules us,' put in Devuel, picking a berry from a tree and eating it.

'He doesn't,' said Saruviel flatly. 'The old man does. The father. He tells me who he is. Ok. I know who he is.'

'Who?' asked Daraqel?'

'Yeh, who?' queried Kantriel.

Saruviel smiled at them, and was about to boast out his knowledge, but kept his lip.

'Well, never you mind. Ok. I'm seventhborn. And it's my private knowledge.'

'You're a shmuck,' said Devuel.

'Saruviel's a shmuck,' said Kantriel, teasing.

Saruviel grabbed his younger brother, and the rest of the afternoon they wrestled away, as the light gradually diminished throughout the Realm of Eternity, another glorious day for the children of the Living God.

'Michael. You are good and responsible,' said Elenniel.

'Yes, Michael,' said Meludiel. 'You are the bravest of us.'

Daniel looked at Meludiel say that. He was instantly jealous.

'I'm the strongest, though,' said Yaramiel.

'I can take ya,' said Abraqel,' and the two of them fell to a wrestling contest, as some of the Seraphim of Eternity gathered around to watch them and laugh.

The 140 angels were mostly there, at the fort of Michael, living their young lives, in Zaphora. It was not yet known as Zaphora, but the Realm of Eternity, but one day it would be. They were young. Still so very young, living innocently in the world God had created for them, eating at the garden, running around, now in tunics which had been made from cotton which had been made into thread. Of course, they knew each other's nakedness well, but innocence knew no concerns of any thoughts of anything other than childful play. Besides, the equipment, as it where, for that mysterious act of procreation was not yet part of the children of God. One day it would be, but not yet.

They had adventures, each and every day, and Gabriel had gone on about a message from God, who had called each of them his precious Morning Stars. And he liked it when they sang together, the Morning Stars. When they sang as a group, lovely songs of life, and praise. And he loved them each, oh so very dearly. And he treasured them. And he delighted in them. And they were all united. And they were all at peace.

And then there was Saruviel.

Michael wondered about Saruviel, occasionally. He was a different type of brother, Sar. A lot more, well. Well, serious. Like he felt he was the real firstborn in a way, and somehow the real and most responsible one of them. Weird that. That was not true. Michael was number one. He had always known that. Of course, he loved Saruviel, and they played around together from time to time, but now, with all 140 angels born, groups had begun forming. Little cliques, were certain angels seemed to connect more strongly with certain others, and that was, apparently, the way of things.

Like Azrael and Cosadriel. They fought each other tooth and nail, constantly. Always arguing, always boasting, but the love was always apparent as well. Like a rivalry which would last for all time. And perhaps even longer. He loved watching those two go at it, and their twins would stand idly by, used to the shenanigans, used to the rivalry.

There were many such groups, and Saruviel had one also. Him and Kantriel and Daraqel especially, with the predictable Devuel always there, and Semambarel half the time as well.

And then there was Daniel, who kept to himself, the shy one, but seemed to get along with Kantriel a little bit. He puzzled on Daniel. Different sort of an angel. Quiet. Shy. Like he hadn't quite connected with the rest of the angels yet. Just like him.

Of course, he and Gabriel and Raphael ran things, and they were the tightest group of all.

And, of course, Ambriel. The love bug himself. He could never live without the little guy, smiling at him, asking endless question after question, and the constant concern for every angel in the family.

It was a good group, the Morning Stars of God. And they would always be that, he supposed. Together. Living at peace with each other. Happy and at play. Forever, naturally. Or so he believed.

'What's this?' Kantriel asked Saruviel.

'The New Order,' replied the seventhborn of the angels.

'The New Order? 50 Male Angels. You first. There's no Michael on it. A whole lot of angels are not on it.'

'Followers of Michael. The hard core. I cut them out.'

'Why?'

'Coz they suck,' replied Saruviel. 'Besides, I'll re-add them to the list later on. When I have proved my point.'

Kantriel studied the list for a while longer and nodded. 'Ok. I'll go with you on it.'

'On what?' asked Daraqel, sitting down. Kantriel handed him the papyrus.

'The New Order,' said Daraqel. 'But there is only 50 of them? And no Michael.'

'Nor his crew,' said Kantriel.

Daraqel handed it back to Kantrie. 'Yeh. Alright. If you say so Saruviel.'

'Yes. Yes I do, young brother. Yes I do.'

'Can I have a look?' asked Semambarel.

Kantriel handed him the list. It read:

The Seraphim Males of Eternity

1. Saruviel

2. Sariel

3. Bantriel

4. Cimbrel

5. Dameriel

6. Valandriel

7. Loquiel

8. Cosadriel

9. Kelkuriel

10. Gamrayel

11. Semambarel

12. Jontel

13. Yaramiel

14. Mistrel

15. Matrel

16. Kantriel

17. Daraqel

18. Simonuel

19. Azrael

20. Jerahmeel

21. Devuel

22. Zadennuel

23. Jamenuel

24. Talutiel

25. Phindwel

26. Remriddel

27. Roshael

28. Kalenuel

29. Gandel

30. Talzudiel

31. Sosteriel

32. Daniel

33. Radrukiel

34. Sadurael

35. Abraqel

36. Pendrael

37. Fazuel

38. Wendel

39. Berakiel

40. Ulantriel

41. Judayliel

42. Desdrael

43. Othaniel

44. Queriel

45. Zakiel

46. Saziel

47. Adruel

48. Halyudiel

49. Samael

50. Zashadiel

'What about the rest?' asked Semambarel innocently.

'I'll add them back in later. When they have learned their lesson,' responded Saruviel.

'Fine,' said Semambarel a bit nervously, but didn't object either. Saruviel's new order. Forever onwards, he supposed. Well, ok. Why not. Why not.

Daniel was a shy angel. He didn't get along with the group very well, but his twin, Ariel, talked with him from time to time and reminded him he was loved. He liked all the angels, but didn't think Michael was a very good choice for firstborn. He was showy. He dressed himself with an attitude of 'I know everything and I am the superior one, and sucked up compliments constantly and thought himself worthy of them. He thought him an idol the angels worshipped, usurping God's place in the scheme of things, and trying to be an authority when he should leave people alone to live their own lives and not put up with the whims of an angel only focused on 'being cool' about things. Like he was something special. He talked with Ariel about this and she nodded to him. 'But we like to flatter Michael anyway. We love, remember. Who cares. Life goes on. Michael will get over his superiority complex one day.'

'At least Saruviel has a brain about it,' responded Daniel. 'He has authority naturally in him, and wields it well keeping people in line when they listen to him. More imagination as well. Michael's sucks in comparison.'

'Then go join Saruviel then,' she replied.

'No. No thanks in the end. In the end, I think, he is a bit arrogant as well, and probably has something coming to him from God. In a million years, or something.'

'What's a year?' she asked innocently.

'The old man talked about it with me. A measurement of a unit of days. Count off the same number of days time and again, each being a year.'

'Oh,' said Ariel. 'An interesting idea.'

'God tells me lots of things,' said Daniel.

'The old man isn't God. He just represents him.'

'Mmmm,' said Daniel. 'Probably. I am not sure, though, in the end if he is really that, though. God. Despite claiming to be to me.'

'Oh, you have doubts about him.'

'He thinks to highly of Michael. The Spirit of God says to me it's not the same in eternity, later on. When things are resolved. When the truth is known. A new order will arise, when a correction of illusions has been made.'

'The Spirit of God?' she asked him.

'A technical term for who God really is. The big voice. Not this Jehovah fellow.'

'Jehovah? You and your big words, Daniel. You are always too technical. Lighten up.'

He looked softly at her, and walked away. He didn't like being rebuked, and sulked for ages when his brothers and sisters had a go at him.

Ariel watched him go. She'd done that before. Had a go at him. She knew it wasn't right. The others did it as well. Teased Daniel. Seemed everyone liked to do that. Tease Daniel. Probably, she should know better. Probably.

Kantriel surveyed the plane. Right in the centre of the Realm, a plane, roughly circular, fit for a grand and great home.

'It shall be called Zaphon,' declared Michael confidently to the crowd. 'It shall be our home, our eternal abode, our eternal rest, of joy and peace. Yet, first, according to the word of God, we must make things – tools and such – to construct what he calls a 'Keep'. And therein we shall find our salvation.'

Kantriel made the first axe, and Saruviel the first saw, Michael designed the first hammer, and Gabriel made nails. Many long, many short. Yaramiel and Abraqel worked with rock and, soon, they were making a trial go of an abode north of the plane. It looked ok when finished, but father told them they would now be challenged to excellence, and when it was torn down, they had been fitted with proper work clothes by the 'Tailors' amongst them, the quality of their tools improved greatly, and plans drawn up for the design of the keep. It would take a long time, was all they were told, the building of Zaphon, but they took to the task and, in the late afternoons, when they drank from the Sellawon, or ate from the fruit of the gardens, they would gaze on the unfolding Zaphon keep and know they had worked a triumph.

And then, lo and behold, it was complete. And then, lo and behold, it was done.

And the angels had built themselves a home.

'You really don't know who God is at all. Now you say its Jehovah again. Make up your mind Daniel.'

'I'm. Uncertain,' he finally responded to Ariel's point.

'Just like you,' she responded. 'Come on. God is God. Just the way it is. Get on with your life. Leave stupid questions alone.'

'I guess so,' responded the uncertain Daniel the Seraphim, but the question still puzzled him.

Later on that year, the year Zaphon had been built, Daniel spied Meludiel alone in the lower dining room. He looked at her, and he wasn't sure if she noticed him, but he looked at her, fascinated yet again by her beauty, and coveted her heart. But then he rebuked himself yet again, left the room, and went down to the Sellawon. Meludiel would never like him. She would always be faithful to Ambriel. He would never impress her. But still he looked, and still he ogled, but acting on that impulse. Well he would never do that, would he? Would he?

Saruviel sat there, in the darkness, alone, nobody else around, thinking to himself, alone, nobody there, alone – quiet. Quiet.

He was in the cellar of Zaphon keep, sitting in a lounge chair, on the northern wall of the large cellar, a candle he had brought down with him steadily burning away, doing nothing at all but just sitting there, lost in thought. Hand on chin, resting in the seat, thinking.

'In the end, when all the hurly burly had come and gone, and they'd had all their celebrations, and built all their marvellous abodes. In the end when they'd had all their romances, and made all their wonderful friendship clubs and had all their loves. In the end, when they'd designed every invention capable of and bragged and boasted about being Angels of Glory. In the end, when it was all said and done, and they'd done everything they were capable of doing, what then? And really, what was the point? What was the point?

It felt like, in a strange way, that life was meaningless at that point. Like it was chase after the wind. Like it served no great purpose and that after you had achieved all your glory, fear God and obey him, and that was all that mattered in the end anyway.

And then, in the end, why serve God? If life was that predictable, that mundane, that according to plan, why serve God at all? Perhaps he was just a bit boring in the end. And perhaps he just made the angels conform to his whims for his own pleasure, for his own sense of glory and accomplishment. Perhaps he didn't really care at all, and just had made them for his good pleasure. Perhaps that was what it was all about.

But that wasn't fair. They deserved better than that. The angels of glory, they deserved much better than that – than being mere 'play things' for the cosmic creator.

And suddenly he was annoyed, and suddenly he was angry, and suddenly he was pissed off.

But he kept his anger to himself, and he kept his thoughts to himself, and he thought on the evening stars, and he thought on the truth he knew.

And time would tell of what would be.

'The operation is ready to go,' said Kantriel, his face covered in black ash, wearing khaki clothes like the rest of them, all garbed up in 'Evening Stars Elite' uniforms.

'Ready?' queried Saruviel to all the Evening Stars surrounding Zaphon. 'ATTACK!'

And in they moved, like death shadows, bags full of pooey laundry and, one by one, while the angels slept, dropped the pooey whites onto the faces of the sleeping Seraphim.

All around Zaphon, for the next half an hour, outbursts of 'Pooo, what's the stink,' as one by one the Evening Stars heard shocked yells of 'What the heck!' and so on.

Eventually, Michael in the lead, they all appeared downstairs in the main lobby outside of the dining room. And there, on the lounge chairs, sat the evening stars, smirking at each other, and looking oh so not innocent.

'Are you guys responsible for this?' Michael asked them instantly, holding a shitty sheet.

'We've been playing bush games,' responded Kantriel. 'What, you couldn't hold it in?'

'Very funny,' said Gabriel. Daniel strolled up, then, from out of the keep, not having been affected by the situation.

'Was this you Daniel?' they all asked him, looking at the innocent Seraphim.

'It was Daniel,' some of them started yelling, perhaps too nervous to accuse Saruviel and his crew.

Daniel looked on, and suddenly burst into tears, and ran out the way he had come, Ariel quickly running after him.

But Michael glared at the confident Saruviel. He knew who it was. And Saruviel would get his come uppance one day. You could count on that.

'Nobody likes me,' said Daniel miserably. But Ariel held him in her arms, and rocked him gently. They were there half the night, sitting next to a Zaphon porch, Daniel feeling sad, and Ariel rocking him and singing softly to him. She told him stories and adventures and said to him that life and eternity would go on forever and see millions, perhaps billions of different places and adventures for each of them, and they would have countless friends and intimates before, at the end of it all, they would find each other again, and then, when all was said and done, Daniel Would love Ariel and Ariel would Love Daniel, and that would be that.

And Daniel fell asleep in Ariel's arms, and she watched his eye movements, and wondered what strange dreams he would have, and she loved him with all her heart. With all her heart.

'One day you will have to grow up, though. If you want to be firstborn.'

Saruviel acknowledged the words of the old man. 'But, even that? What's the point? Of it all?'

'You. You will have to figure that out for yourself. It's in your heart,' and the old man patted Saruviel on the back, and wandered away, and Saruviel sat there, on eastern porch of Zaphon, thinking about life. It was sunny at the moment, and the angels were mostly around there at the moment, celebrating Daniel's birthday. Ariel was seated next to him all day, and after the stunt they pulled recently, Saruviel knew what was coming to Daniel. He got up, went inside, and soon returned with the sealed package.

He weaved through the crowd, and sat down next to Daniel.

'Ho, its Saruviel,' said Michael to everyone. 'Does he have a great gift for Daniel?'

'Let's see, Saruviel,' said all the angels in unison.

Saruviel looked at Daniel. 'You know, you're a pretty special guy, Danny. When it all comes right down to it. We want you in the Evening Stars, and we promise to behave a bit better about it all.'

And Saruviel undid the package, and revealed an Evening Stars Elite uniform, which Daniel put on, and it fitted perfectly.

Daniel smiled, and Ariel beamed at him all day long.

And, from the corner of the celebration, the old man looked on, and also smiled at Daniel, and said to himself. 'An Evening Star? When all is said and done? Very well then. His glory shall certainly be challenging because of it.'

And the Spirit of God said in the throneroom of Zaphon 'AMEN!'.

Saruviel and Devuel were at Michael's fort. 'They don't come here much, anymore. Since Zaphon's been built,' said Devuel casually.

'Life moves on,' responded Saruviel, digging into the dirt at his feet.

'Yeh. Who knows where we will be in a million years, huh?'

'Ruling trillions,' responded Saruviel.

'Very funny. There are only 140 of us,' responded Devuel.

'You think that is the way it will always be?' queried Saruviel, looking directly at his younger Evening Star brother.

'I don't know. Won't it?'

Saruviel just looked at him and continued digging.

A distance away Semambarel and Kantriel and Daraqel were all playing around, throwing pine cones at each other, acting like idiots. Saruviel gave them a glance, but continued what he was doing.

'More angels?' asked Devuel, curious.

'Sure, why not?' responded Saruviel. 'You think God is satisfied with just 140 of us? He wants unlimited numbers, probably, in the end. A neverending supply.'

'And how do you know this?'

'It's what he's raising us for,' responded the all-knowing Saruviel.

'Maybe he's made others already,' thought Devuel out loud.

'Maybe,' said Saruviel.

'Fuck. It would be intense if we had other brothers and sisters. People he hasn't talked to us about.'

'Out there,' said Saruviel, pointing. 'Out there. It must go on forever. It just has to. If there was a real end to it, what lies beyond that?'

'Dunno,' responded Devuel.

'Just that. God hasn't worked there yet. But he will. I am certain of it. And it's our destiny to be part of it.'

'Our destiny?' queried Devuel.

'Our Destiny,' confirmed Saruviel.

Devuel just looked at his brother, considering his thoughts. Just like Saruviel. To meditate on the heavy shit in life. Just like him.

Suddenly a pine comb hit Saruviel on the head, and the three others bore down on them, and another of the Evening Stars famous wrestling sessions began, a tight fought contest, for they were reasonably well matched. And the spirit of God observed some of the more memorable cussing this little group had portrayed so far, and even though he raised an occasional eyelid, he let it be. Such were the Evening Stars of God. And how could he ever really complain?

Daniel and Kantriel were on the northern edge of the Realm, near the Rim. The Rim was the edge of the Realm of Eternity, the realm being roughly circular in shape. You couldn't really transverse the rim, though, as everyone knew. If you flew out beyond it you would go only so far, and while you would keep on flying and might feel like you were, if you looked back at the realm you would notice you were not getting any further away. A very strange design of God, which had always puzzled the angels, Daniel especially.

'Meludiel will never like you,' said Kantriel, to a subject Daniel had gingerly raised. Of all the angels, it was usually Kantriel who Daniel seemed to be able to get along with a little, although he had been interested in making friends with Valandriel for a long time, but who always seemed to be doing this or that.

'Your right. I know. She likes Ambriel too much.'

'What do you expect? Their twins?'

'But she doesn't hang around him very much,' responded Daniel.

'You know how girls are,' said Kantriel. 'Shantriel doesn't even talk to me at all hardly, but she's my twin, and occasionally I see her looking at me. She doesn't like the Evening Stars thing, though. Upsets her. Wants me to be a Morning Star.'

'An Evening Star is more interesting,' responded Daniel. 'But sometimes I feel I am different type of Star entirely.'

'Yeh. The poo Star,' said Kantriel, grinning.

'And you're the Shit Star,' replied Daniel, and grabbed his brother, as they wrestled away for a while.

'If I'm the Shit Star, there must be a Piss Star,' said Kantriel, smiling.

'That's Daraqel,' smiled Daniel.

'Which makes Saruviel your Pee Star,' replied Kantriel, a huge grin on his face.

'Then what is Semambarel?' asked Daniel.

'The Vomit star,' suggested Kantriel.

'Which makes Devuel the Puke Star,' finished Daniel, and they started laughing.

'But your both idiot stars,' said Ariel, who had snuck up on them and been watching them quietly.

'Don't worry,' said Kantriel. 'She's the bitch star.'

'Kantriel!' scolded Ariel. 'A lovely way to talk about your sister,' but she softened on him.

'What's Ambriel?' asked Daniel.

'The Gay Star,' replied Ariel, and all three of them burst out laughing.

'And Michael?' asked Daniel.

'The Dork Star,' said Devuel.

And one by one, by the Sellawon, for the rest of the afternoon, the group of three little angels proceeded to mock the entire heavenly host, granting them quite rude and disturbing titles of eternal Star Glory. And God reminded himself to write the entire list down, despite the vulgar, and quite shocking, display of onomatic brilliance from the 3 little devils.

'Gabriel. Dear brother. Can I have a word?'

Gabriel turned to the voice. It was Saruviel.

'Yes, Saruviel. How can I help you?'

'You speak with God. Of course, we all do, but I find that he seems to confide in you most of all, these days especially.'

Gabriel almost blushed. What Saruviel had said was somewhat true, now, he had noticed. While Michael had always been the firstborn and chief advocate from their Father from 'Eternity's Haven', were God in the throneroom was known to summon Michael often and speak with him, instructing him on what he should tell the angels, in recent times it had been Gabriel more and more so which had been chosen for this role. And quite apparently that had been noticed.

'Well, thanks Sarry. What do you want me to ask him?'

'Its not so much a request, but an inquiry. An inquiry on, how shall we put it, permissions.'

Gabriel was puzzled. Permissions? What was Saruviel driving at.

'What sort of permissions?' inquired Gabriel.

'Exactly just that,' replied Saruviel. 'I wish to know, how can I put it, our freedoms. What are the liberties we are allowed here in Eternity? What can we do? What can we get away with?'

'Get away with?' responded Gabriel a little concerned. 'You want to get away with something?'

'You misunderstand me,' responded Saruviel. 'I'm not trying to get away with anything at all. Far be it for the seventhborn of God to wish to cause disharmony in the community. I just wish to know the kind of behaviours we can perhaps practice, even perhaps a little casually, without drawing concern from God. What does he tolerate?'

'Well, he has always tolerated quite a bit,' responded Gabriel. 'God loves us. You know that. Why such a strange question?'

'Good to know what you think,' responded Saruviel, even a little sharply. 'But I'd like to hear God's opinion on the subject. If that is ok, mind you. You don't mind asking, do you?'

'Uh, no. No, sure,' replied Gabriel. 'Its a strange question, personally, as we are really just supposed to behave ourselves and get along. But if you wish to know the limits of our playfulness, sure. I will ask him for you.'

'Thanks,' replied Saruviel. 'Very gracious of you. Look, I'll check back with you in a few days, if that's ok.'

'Sure,' responded Gabriel.

Saruviel nodded, looked at his brother cautiously for a moment, and smiled. 'Well, I'll be seeing you. And thanks. I look forward to the answer. Seeya.'

Saruviel turned and left and, as Gabriel watched him go, he puzzled for a moment on the strange question but then, his thoughts returned to what he was doing, turned and continued on with his busy day.

'What was his answer then?' asked Kantriel.

'Officially, the Father of Glory loves all his children and their playful hearts. But there are limits in behaviour, and Torah answers such dilemmas. Nothing more was said,' responded Saruviel.

'Torah doesn't restrict us much,' said Daraqel, of the tightknit group of 3.

'Oh, it has ideas,' responded Saruviel. 'He does not tolerate all that we might think to do. There are words in their which have shades of judgement.'

'Judgement?' asked Kantriel. 'What the heck is that?'

'The rulings of God,' said Saruviel soberly. 'And that is what I fear quite strongly. That God will have his rulings upon us and that, in truth, we are not as free as we might imagine.'

'So what?' queried Kantriel, who was now munching on their lunch meal.

'Yeh, what's the big issue?' said Daraqel, in response.

Saruviel looked upon his two younger Seraphim brothers. They did not, yet, have quite the imagination that he had hoped for.

'In the accomplishing of glory, sometimes rules need to be bent,' said Saruviel.

'Ooh, bend the rules,' grinned Kantriel.

'Suffer the judgement of God,' said Daraqel dramatically.

'Indeed,' replied Saruviel, who said nothing more, as they continued on with their meal.

Ambriel was the 60th born of the Seraphim of Eternity, who worked with Raphael and Loquiel and others to bring harmony to the lives of God's children. He was a ministering angel, an angel of great love and, under Raphael, worked faithfully and tirelessly to bring peace and harmony to the community of God's angels. Today he was busy enough, and then Raphael made a request of him.

'Ambs.'

'Yes, Raphael,' responded Ambriel, looking up at his bigger brother.

'I have a task for you. A request from God, actually. Saruviel. He wants you to take a bit of an interest in him for a while. Chat with him. Hang around a bit. See if all is well with him.'

'Sure,' smiled Ambriel warmly. 'I'd love to do that.'

'Good. Thanks,' said Raphael, and returned to what he was doing.

Ambriel was happy. He loved all his brothers and sisters, and Saruviel as well. And it delighted him that God had given him this special task to watch over Saruviel. He wouldn't let him down, and would be careful and quiet and monitor Saruviel and report to Raphael whatever was happening. A good time to spend some quality time with his older brother, he thought happily to himself, as he returned to his task at hand and got on with his day.

Chapter Two

And time passed. And the Cherubim came to be. And Linda was a cherubim, and Saruviel had a fascination.

'Hey babe.'

'You again,' said Linda, looking at the Seraphim of Power. 'Wanting to rule the world, so they say. Don't ya.'

'Do you like girls?' asked Saruviel.

Linda looked at him squarely. 'And what is that supposed to mean?'

'Girls are a rush,' said Saruviel. 'I have the time of my life with the ladies.'

'You are a devil, arentcha,' she responded.

'Perhaps you could be one too,' he grinned. 'Takes a devil to know a devil,' he said.

She looked at him. 'No thanks. I have enough freedoms.'

'You really don't know what you are missing. I know these Cherubim girls. They'll do anything you want. Literally.'

'I'm sure they will,' said Linda. 'But I'm not interested.'

'Maybe some other time,' said Saruviel, and came over, kissed her on the forehead, and said. 'I want you Linda. For my team. I NEED you. Your one of the best. Noticed you right away.'

'Sure. I'm sure you did,' she said nervously, after being kissed by Saruviel.

'We'd be magic together,' said Saruviel.

'What's magic?' she asked him innocently. A voice in Saruviel's head went silent.

'Uh, nothing babe. Don't worry about it.' But, as he started walking away he turned to her. 'I'll be seeing you, babe. You can count on it.'

'Sure,' she said, and continued on with her raking up the leaves. But she looked at him as he walked away, and she thought on what he had said.

Daniel sat with Semambarel in the cafeteria of Zaphon, eating baked Langwah for dinner with vegetables.

'So. Semambarel. Caught up with Saruviel's agenda. What do you make of it, then?'

'You should know. Your an Evening Star, aren't you?'

'I think I'm a Morning Star now,' replied Daniel. 'Not sure if I like the direction Saruviel is headed in.'

'You'll always be an evening star, one way or another,' responded Semambarel, and took a sip of Melit water.

'You sure you agree with Saruviel?' asked the 45th male of the Seraphim.

'No. If you really must know, no. I'm not sure. And that is the point. I think, perhaps, I need to find out. To find out if I'm sure or not.'

'You think that is wise?' asked Daniel.

'You and Kantriel are still best friends,' said Semambarel. 'I don't see you objecting to his company.'

'We've had a parting of the ways, recently. A few months back. Valandriel and myself have taken up a friendship since then.'

'Oh, yes, Valandriel,' said Semambarel. 'He's probably good for you. Similar viewpoints. Likes your ideas, from memory. Thinks you have insight.'

'Thanks,' said Daniel, and sipped on his own Melit Water. 'I've always liked this Melit water, you know,' said Daniel. 'Pure. Good. The Melit fruit is lovely enough on its own, but the water juice from it is amazing.'

Semambarel looked at Daniel. He could tell when his brother was making a point.

'But Saruviel. Is he really Melit Water? Or something more difficult to palate?'

'Grog, perhaps,' said Semambarel, chuckling.

'Perhaps,' replied Daniel.

'Don't worry. I don't drink much,' said Semambarel, about the new alcoholic beverages that had been recently coming into the realm.

'But perhaps Saruviel does,' said Daniel.

Semambarel looked at him squarely. 'You know, Dan. Perhaps he does indeed.'

'Yes,' finished Daniel. 'Perhaps he does indeed.'

'Take a walk on the wild side, babe,' said Saruviel to Linda.

'You again,' she said. Linda was out in front of her Terraphoran abode, not far from the Sellawon river, a place she lived in on her own, not far from a place where she got her food resources. She gardened a fair bit, and was raking up leaves the last few weeks, as she liked a clean garden.

'Life with Number Seven is a rush, sweetie. I don't come on to every chick, you know. Very few, ok. Krystabel has never really tasted my charms. She's ok, but very square. God's idea, I think.'

'And you want to party,' smiled Linda.

'Sure you can provide the thrill as well,' said Saruviel. 'I've got some grog,' he said, lifting up two bottles of alcohol.

'Sure then. Come inside.'

They sat in the front room for some time, eating Langwah and drinking the grog, and Saruviel started making his move. He kissed her, then asked to see her breasts. And as his tongue caressed them, he talked her into unzipping. He tongued away at her Vagina, which usually caused a mild sensation of pleasure in women, and sometimes they felt quite strong sensations, and they made out. He even managed to talk her into returning the favour and, after five minutes of her tonguing his phallus, it got a little bit hard, which occasionally happened from such ministrations, and he had that rush of feeling that heavy lovemaking sometimes gave.

'I feel this sensation. In my loins,' he said. 'Don't stop babe.' And she kept at it for a while, but then it passed, and Saruviel knew it would be ages before he would feel such things again.

He kissed her. 'You were sweet. I love it when girls do that for you.'

'Any time,' said Linda.

As they got up, Saruviel ready to leave, he pinched her on the butt. 'Your hot, you know. Fancy you something shocking.'

'It must be love,' she said dryly. He grinned at that.

'Nah. Not love. Just lust. The good stuff in life.'

'I'm sure you actually mean that,' she said sarcastically.

'Unlike Michael, I admit the truth. And my fascinations.'

'I'm sure you do,' said Linda. 'Can I have the rest of the grog?'

'Be my guest,' he responded. 'Oh. One last thing. We're having a meeting. Next month on Galadon. Discussing the future of the movement. Are you interested?'

She looked at him and, finally, after the turmoil the issue had cost her in recent thoughts, shrugged. 'May as well,' she replied.

'Cheers,' responded Saruviel. 'But I'm sure we'll meet before then.'

'Let's hope so,' she responded, as he made his way out of her house and back to his own world.

She sat there, as the darkness encroached that afternoon, drinking the grog, and getting slightly drunk. What the heck was she getting herself into? What strange new world would Saruviel take her into? She kidded herself that she'd be fine, but a still, quiet voice said in the corner of her mind, are you sure you know what you are doing, girl. And, in all honesty, she could not say that she did.

'The Quest for holiness,' continued the speaker. 'The quest to be true to ourselves, above all else, is to know that we, in our own strength and being, are the equal of God and that we, in our own strength and being, are just as important and valid as God. His vanity is amazing, isn't it. Make himself the centre of Torah. As if all depends on himself, and we could not shit without him.'

That brought some giggles from the crowd.

'And I tell you, perhaps I could not give a shit about him, these days. He is a control freak. A being which must omnipotently push us around, like a grandmaster of Katchular, and not give one damn to our possible objections or that we might jolly well have our own damn idea on this or that, and that we might and can, and in fact DO think for ourselves.'

A cheer went up from the crowd and Linda, near the front of the audience on the Kalphon lawn watched her man anxiously. She'd heard a lot of this rhetoric in the last week especially, when he'd been coming around all the time, making love, and freely speaking his mind. But his passion in front of this crowd was amazing. She was hooked.

'No, I tell you. We are no longer so gullible as to believe everything the Lord God Almighty might have to say. We are free beings. And we are thinking beings. And the future is OURS!' he yelled, the last words carrying well around the grounds.

A cheer went up again, and Saruviel stood down from the dais, and people went up and crowded all around him.

He noticed her, and he waved to her, and Linda was entranced. Magnetic attraction at its most powerful – and seductive.

Later on, when the core of Saruviel's elite were inside his office in Kalphon, Saruviel was speaking.

'Soon, friends, we make our first decisive move. I'll let you know the details soon enough, but it won't be this cycle anyway. But soon enough. And thanks, everyone, for making it today. We sent a message today to Zaphon. A clear one. We're not their servants anymore. Their pawns no longer. The future is OURS friends. The future is ours.'

When everyone had left, Saruviel poured himself a glass of grog, and came and sat next to Linda on the couch.

'You were powerful today,' she said.

'Thanks,' he said.

'You looked – like a God,' she said.

He grinned a wry smile.

She kissed him on the cheek, then, and got down in front of him, opened up his clothing and took out his phallus, and she pumped it with her hand for a while, and then orally sucked him for ages.

And he was in heaven for a while, the King of his whole Universe. The Master of his whole Domain.

A sharp knife was in her hand. She held it, looking at the picture. He annoyed her, now. He did more than that – he upset her heart, the deepest part of her soul. He had betrayed her. Her standing in the community.

Krystabel took the sharp knife and, looking fiercely at Elenniel's ancient and famous picture of Saruviel, hacked at the canvas, and plunging hole after hole into the what must be startled expression of her brother she knew all to welll.

'Take that, bastard,' she said over and over again, extremely upset. The Painting didn't survive very long.

It was Ambriel, who had been sent by God very quickly, to go and see his sister, who found her in the corner of the Pelnaphon artroom, huddled down in a corner, next to the destroyed artwork, sobbing softly to herself.

'Kryssie,' he said very softly. 'It's ok. It's me, Ambriel.'

She looked up at him, tears in her eyes. 'I hate him,' she said. Ambriel saw the destroyed picture of Saruviel, and knew instantly what to do. Carefully he picked up the picture, and the knife, and stored them out of sight, and then, returning to Krystabel, he helped her to her feet, and persuaded her to come to the emergency dorm of Pelnaphon, were an angel quickly attended her, giving her a bed, and looking to her welfare.

Ambriel sat with her.

'It's just,' she began. 'It's just that, well. I'm his twin. And will anybody ever respect either of us again? Oh, I love him. But he's gone off into something which is too big for him to handle. He doesn't know what he is getting himself into. And I'm suffering every day because of it.'

Ambriel put his arm around his sister to comfort her.

'It's ok,' he said. 'Everything will be ok. God is in control.'

She sniffled for a while and, eventually, starting to tire, rolled over and fell asleep. Ambriel watched her for some time, as she slept there, snoring very lightly, an Angel whose life had been torn apart. How many more angels would suffer as such under the wrath of Saruviel before this thing was over, he wondered to himself? How many more would find tears in their hearts and tears on their pillows? How many more broken souls? How many?

The Cherubim Noah was a revered Cherubim in the community. He had a way about him, a presence of character, and a devotion to God few other's managed. He was respected.

Yet Saruviel he did not respect, for the most part. In fact, for the most part, he disdained the fellow.

'What the heck is your problem, Seventhborn?' queried Noah, from the upper library lounge of Kalphon keep.

'Noah. I did not see you come in,' responded Saruviel.

'I came looking for you. Your recklessness has gone on long enough, big brother. I'm calling you to account.'

'To account for my beliefs, dear Noah? But they are only the truth. They are only the heart of what everyone wants in the end. You know.'

'I prefer God, his Torah and a clear understanding of what the creator requires of me,' responded Noah, sitting down opposite the angel. 'Do you have those priorities?'

'Obviously not,' responded Saruviel.

'Then I will say it,' said Noah. 'You are acting out of line. You are causing disharmony in the community, and angels are suffering because of your actions and deeds as well as your words. You need to get a grip on what you are really going on about, bro. Because nothing good will come of it.'

'You...JUDGE me?' queried Saruviel, an air of hostility in his voice. 'I only speak TRUTH fool.'

'Don't YOU call me fool. I may be younger than you, but my Torah knowledge probably already supersedes your own,' responded Noah.

Saruviel glared at him. 'Ok. What do you really want. If you think you have come to change my mind, think again. I won't be listening to the likes of you.'

'No. No, you won't, will you,' said Noah. 'Very well. Be stubborn. But I will pray, I tell you. Each day, until you are dealt with. And be it your own responsibility.'

'Go ahead, Noah. Pray.'

And Noah prayed. And Noah prayed.

Semambarel and Devuel were on the outer grounds of Kalphon keep, up the northern section, drinking grog and smoking tobacco.

'Love this stuff,' said Devuel, referring to the tobacco.

'It's ok,' said Semambarel. 'It makes me cough a lot, but I get a high when I smoke it. Feel really good for ages, but then my lungs start hurting if I smoke too much for too long, and I have to quit for a few months. The health angels say not to abuse the things. Could even kill you if you smoke them too much.'

'Kill us? I know what they say, the end of life. And God would have to bring you back. I mean, how does that happen?' asked Devuel.

'I have been told if you lost your head in an accident, or something else very severe happened to your body, you could die. It can kill you,' replied Semamberel.

'Devuel without a head?' thought Devuel to himself out loud. 'He might even make more sense that way.'

'I think I would have to agree,' said Luladiel, suddenly coming into view, approaching them from the keep.

'Hey babe,' said Devuel. 'Nice to see you again. Finally coming around to our point of view.'

'Saruviel's a nut,' said Luladiel.

'Or apparently not,' said Semambarel smiling.

'The only reason you, my dastardly twin,' said Luladiel to her twin Devuel of the Seraphim. 'The only reason you hang around Saruviel is to be cool. It is your ONLY motivation. To be one of the bad boys. Nothing to do with his beliefs, which you couldn't give two hoots about. Just your reputation.'

'You know me too well, babe,' replied Devuel, which got one of those looks from Luladiel which he knew all too well.

'Unfortunately, Yes,' agreed Luladiel, who sat down next to Devuel, took a bottle of grog, and started drinking.

'Daniel will be here soon, as well,' said Luladiel. 'Wanted you and Semambarel to know he has concerns, but that he can chill as well,' said Luladiel.

'We are not ALL Squares!' said Daniel out loud, coming over the small rise into view. He had grog with him, and two packs of Taylor Made cigarettes.

'Here,' he said, throwing a pack of ciggies in front of Devuel. 'Enjoy.'

'Awesome, Dan. About time you chilled again,' said Devuel.

'I ordered us some entertainment,' said Daniel. 'A lute player. Good one.'

Nadiel the Cherubim came into view a few moments later, carrying her lute, her prized possession, and as she started playing some of the classics and some of the newer tunes, they small group of Evening Stars, in the evening of eternity, enjoyed themselves, partied and, all things considered, had a jolly good time. And Saruviel's agenda was not even mentioned the once.

'Hey babe. She tastes good, doesn't she,' said Saruviel.

Linda lifted her head from between the legs of a cherubim girl. She had been engaged in – questionable activities - by the standards of society. 'Sure, sweetie,' she replied. 'Do you have a fag?'

'Better yet. Some dope,' he replied.

'Brilliant,' she said, and took a puff. She was high all night.

The following morning, the girls and the guys gone, she was alone in her bedroom when she woke. She went to the mirror and looked at herself. It was like another lady looking at her. Someone drugged up, high all the time, and out of their friggin minds. Literally. What the heck was she doing? Going Crazy?

'You look fine,' said Saruviel, coming into the bathroom. 'Woman always fuss too much about their looks.'

'I'm fucked up,' she said, looking at him honestly.

'Come on babe,' said Saruviel. 'What's life without a party? The girls are coming back over soon, and we have a fresh supply of grog.'

'I notice you never get to wasted,' she said sarcastically.

'Hey, I have to watch over a new movement. But my heart is with you,' he replied. Saruviel hardly ever touched serious grog or the other intoxicants.

He turned to her. 'You'll be out soon enough, right?'

Linda stared at him. This was it. Her life. Sure, she normally had something of a life. A now godforsaken twin who USED to visit her. A decent part-time job. Something to live for and be represented as in the community.

And now? An angel with a bad reputation, who looked even worse, and who felt? Well, enough to say who looked even worse. She was a wreck.

'Sure,' she replied to her dark lord. 'I'll be out later. Need to get some more sleep first.'

'I'll be in the other room,' he said. 'Look, don't worry babe. You'll be fine. Come on. It could hardly kill you.'

When he disappeared she looked again in the mirror and thought on his last comment. 'If only,' she thought sarcastically to herself. 'If only.'

Nadiel sat on the ground, her lute between her legs, dozing. It was cold, but she didn't really notice. She'd been partying, again, all night with the group, and Saruviel and Linda came and joined them last night. Nadiel felt her cherubim sister Linda had gotten a bit out of hand, and seeing her confirmed some of her fears. She looked a bit of a state, and the forced makeup was quite noticeable. She was a mess.

She woke, and the fire was still burning, the embers warming her feet, so she moved forward to gain some warmth, and wrapped her cardigan closely around her. Suddenly hands were there, putting her cardigan onto her, and putting a rug around her. It was Daniel.

'You know,' said the twin of Daniel the Cherubim, to Daniel the Seraphim. 'It might be ironic, but I think I like you more than my own twin. And your the SENIOR Daniel.'

Daniel smiled at her. 'Your a great girl yourself, Nadiel. I think we click in many ways. Lots in common, because Daniel and myself have similar ideas and sensibilities and something, as I said, just clicks between us. Chemistry, maybe, but respect I think. You appreciate intellectual sarcasm, and I like being appreciated properly.

She put her hand to her head, and giggled. 'Oh. And my winning personality?'

'You have a personality?' he asked her, and she laughed out loud. They did get along.

'Oh, shut up you two,' said Linda, opening bleary eyes. 'What time is it?'

'Morning. Just about,' said Daniel. 'Very early, but the light is coming in now.'

'Time for breakfast, sweetie,' said Saruviel, suddenly awake, to Linda.

'Oh, god no,' responded Linda. 'You'll only make me drink again.'

'Not this morning. Fried flapcakes and Honeyflower syrup. That's what I'll order for you from Kalphon's best cook.'

'Sound's tolerable,' said Linda, feeling a bit better.

'Are you sure you know what you are doing, Saruviel?' Daniel asked his older brother. 'I mean, all is well and good with the Freedom platform you maintain, but I didn't think your agenda was messing around with personal lives. Have you seen Linda's face? She's a wreck.'

Saruviel looked at her. 'She'll live,' he said sarcastically.

'Sure will,' replied Linda, and lit a cigarette from the burning fireplace.

'Yeh, she'll live,' said Daniel. 'But for how long?'

'Worry wart,' responded Saruviel, and kicked at Devuel and Semambarel, waking them.

'Come on, dudes. Farty face Daniel is preaching again.'

'What time is it?' asked a bleary faced Devuel.

'It's too early,' said Semambarel. 'Wake me in an hour.'

Saruviel shrugged, and as he stood and stretched, he looked at Linda. She did look a bit of a state, and he HAD noticed.

He turned to Daniel. 'You know. Don't worry Dan. I'll go easy on her today. Treat her right. I love her too, you know, bro.'

'Good to hear,' said Linda drowsily, getting to her feet.

As they stumbled off, the day starting to brighten, Daniel rested his head on Semambarel's legs, who was snoring loudly now, and said out loud. 'Another day of madness in the Realm of Eternity, hey Nads.'

She got up on his chest, kissed him on the mouth, and said 'And don't you love it.'

He kissed her back, and they woke Semambarel, and soon were chasing down the others, looking forwards to Kalphon's breakfast menu for the day.

But it wasn't enough for Saruviel, a freedom platform, and some preaching of his views. It was action he wanted. And then they missed assembly. And then some work duties. And then, separating, and not joining in with any of the regular activities. And, as time passed to Linda, whose face wore more and more the marks of what she only called decadence in her lifestyle, she came to realize that freedom without responsibility was a life which ended in pain. And she was suffering every day in the freedoms she now allowed for herself. Every single day.

They'd had their game of Chulara, or Katchular as it was traditionally called, and Saruviel had made it clear enough to Michael his views and the lengths he would go to to defend his freedom, and then God had spoken to Michael and told him his own judgement impending under the words of Raguel. And Michael had no real choice but to accept them.

'A Tree of Knowledge of Good and Evil,' God had said to Michael in a dream. 'And some partake far too soon.'

Michael was in Zaphon keep, on the ground floor, in the ancient small lounge area, sitting there, thinking. Just thinking.

Michael of the Seraphim was the firstborn angel of Eternity. In his life so far he had seen much and done much. But in all of that, the kind of rebellion, as it was called, that Saruviel and his cohorts were engaged in at the moment, was unprecedented. It had never happened like this before. Perhaps minor glimpses of such realities, in the same players even – but never such an extreme. Never.

And Michael didn't like it.

He was orderly, and lawful and complied with Torah and knew the wisdom and truth of God and that life was balanced on obedience to God and his will and, more importantly than anything else, knowing the eternal deity. Knowing him with all the strength within you. Because then you could emulate him, and grow in trust knowing his power and strengths. Which is were Saruviel threatened him for, in many ways, with all this talk of freedom and doing your own will, it only appeared to be the direct opposite of Torah and the opposite of all the sound wisdom Michael knew in his heart to be true. But it was oh, so alluring. Forbidden fruit, apparently, from his dream. Oh, so alluring.

He knew now, knowing the impending judgement of God, that Saruviel was getting what he deserved. That deep in the heart of Saruviel had been life lessons taught by God his father which Saruviel had both neglected and, in fact, ignored. Saruviel did not want to KNOW his God's opinion on these subjects and, further, he did not even CARE. He was his own angel, now, God had made apparent to Michael. And while that was, in the end, not necessarily a bad thing, the kind of reckless ambition that Saruviel was pursuing his ambitions of freedom for all with, well. Well in the judgement of God no good could come of it.

And yes, Saruviel would know that judgement soon enough.

Michael felt, in a strange way, lucky. Perhaps it was luck or, perhaps, it was just the way he had been born. The way God had made him. As if the fundamentals of Michael the Seraphim were not the choices of Michael the Seraphim, but a heart, fashioned in the eternal life of the wisdom of God, which knew the kind of decisions Michael would already make. And that Michael, when he made his choices, was only choosing as such because that was what he already was in his heart. That his lifelong decisions only ever reflected the wisdom of God in the way that God had made him.

But what then of how God had fashioned Saruviel?

What then?

No matter, the judgement had come and thus, Michael must verily assume, Saruviel was guilty. He must be. And so, for the next while, awaiting the judgement of God, Michael would act calmly, regularly, and not really voice his opinion on this matter again, till the judgement came. And then he need not speak any more regardless. It would be known to all.

He sat there, on a couch, thinking, looking into the space of Zaphon keep, oblivious to all, heavy thoughts in heart, heavy thoughts in his soul. Another day in the life of Archangel Michael, Firstborn Seraphim of the Realm of Eternity.

Saruviel sat in the darkness. Ever downwards, the dreams had told him. To be taken ever downwards and then, rest. Into a darkness which would be his abode. In a darkness that would be his resting place, from thence, till the judgement of God waned, if ever should such a think come to pass. For he had pronounced no time limit to his punishment, had the father of Glory, yet not pronunced it truly eternal. And thus, he waited in the darkness, Ambriel now visiting occasionally, speaking solitary words of the Realm, as he and Kantriel and Daraqel and the others dwelt there, in the darkness, that deathly night being their only friend.

He dreamed away most of the day, for there was nought else to occupy his time with, and conversation had run dry betwixt the fallen. They knew they had been judged, and sat there, doing their time of punishment, not knowing the days of the wrath of God, not knowing the days of their forgiveness, if ever a thing should be.

Saruviel burned for a while, in his pride. His pride defeated after some months of quiet, obvious now they would not be so soon forgiven, he sat there now stewing in revenge somewhat, but that too was dissipating. Mainly now just suffering. And questioning. Yet again, questioning. And an obvious truth became more so. He might speak of freedom. He might speak of absolute rights and sovereign wills, but there was one, undeniable, immutable, absolute utter truth, now, to his existence. God. And God did not necessarily view the matter with the enlightened wisdom of Saruviel.

Perhaps he had been foolish. He had cast that idea aside at first, knowing his wisdom infallible. But then, if infallible, why had it failed. Why had not – God – seen it his way?

So he suffered, and questioned, and, in this millennial abode of self-inquiry, forced by the hand of the Most High, he even contemplated, just a little, the wisdom of that God who had punished him so. Just a little, mind you. Just a little.

Linda looked in the mirror. It was gone, now, seemingly. Her youthfulness. And, perhaps, another intimate part of her being as well. But the best of her was still there, Linda still looked out proudly in reflection, now changed a great deal, now, strangely, a little older, a little wiser, a little more alert to the machinations of Saruviel the Dreaded One. When the judgement came, she had been much like the rest of them. Unprepared, shocked and a dismayed. But it was ironic. Life – simply – went on. Whatever would be, had been, and life – simply – went on. And she, with no Saruviel calling on her every other day, returned to something of a semblance of her normal routine. Her looks gradually improved, even though she still drank a bit. Her smell also improved, although the skin still suffered a bit from tobacco rash when she indulged too much. Yet, all in all, things were getting better. Things were getting better.

Her twin visited her the other day. Said hello. Said she looked better. She took that as a compliment. And she got her working position back, the part-time labour she did for the Ream, which was what usually earned her keep. She got back to it, and life, as she knew it, seemed to gradually be returning to its regular hum and drum. She was over most of it.

But still something lingered.

It was as if, in the heart of Linda the Cherubim, a fire had been lit, which had one word written on it. 'SARUVIEL'. And that fire would not be quenched by a sudden judgement, or a current departure from the realm. It would take more than that – much more – to do away with the magnetic hold the personality of Saruviel the Seraphim held on Linda the Cherubim.

Yet, for now, she had peace. For now, she had rest. And as the Realm of Eternity indeed got back to a semblance of order it had once known, she thanked God for small mercies. And, finally, for a decent night's sleep.

The End


End file.
